Portland, OR

I'm getting bad at updating this.  You might think it's because I'm too busy to update but that would be giving me too much credit.  I've managed to watch A Walk on the Moon, 2 episodes of Survivor, School Ties, Harold and Maude, Intolerable Cruelty, Antoine Dodson's song (I forgot how good it makes me feel) and every Disney movie opening via YouTube instead of updating my blog.  Bad Ali.  I'm going to do better.

I visited Portland 2 weeks ago, my first time returning since I left after living there for a year.  I had a wonderful weekend and wrote a really sappy diatribe about it on the plane ride home--which I won't relay here, though maybe give the gist.  By the way, I realize this blog about 'Ali in Cali' has only 2 of 7 entries about California right now.  Oopsies.  Well, I never said I played it safe.  Or whatever.  The act of traveling somehow makes my life seem more interesting even though mostly what I did in Portland was get drunk and sit on various couches.

Firstly, Portland has the best airport in the world.  You step out of the terminal and the air is the cleanest you've ever smelled.  The weather isn't the "best"--cloudy/rainy--but it is perfect against the scenery.

MAGICAL

This was my favorite thing about being in Portland.  The pine trees, hills and rivers made me feel like I was living in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon...or some less Asian equivalent.  I suppose Twilight is a more apropos comparison because as we know, I really love Twilight and Robert Pattinson.  In general, it was a beautiful backdrop for a very odd and confusing time in my post-college life. 


Here's my non-favorite thing about Portland.  The 'artists' and all the stupid 'art' they do.  For instance.  This instillation at a gallery we passed by on the way to a bar.  The paintings on the walls are celebrities served on dinner platters/in deadly poses while these babies hung from the ceiling. Man, these artists really are good for a laugh!  

WTF

My ex-roommate (but not ex-friend!!!!) Danny took me to a small Asian seafood market to get oysters, and because I love seafood more than anything except Mac and Cheese (had to make that clear) this was maybe the highlight of the trip.

Live Crabs! Grosssss. Kewllll.

Oysters that we shucked ourselves. Are you salivating or vomiting right now??

On the plane ride back I listened to my "Portland" playlist on my Apple Ipod (obligatory Jobs shout-out) to bring back all da memories. Memories about driving to my internship across the Fremont bridge where you can see the whole city and the Willamette River and the valley beyond.  And hiking in the hills and getting caught in the rain when going for a run and having to stand in the church doorway until it let up.

Here's the end of what I wrote on the plane, in case things haven't gotten gay enough for you yet:

I don’t even recognize the scenery I’m flying over yet--California is still new and I’m barely a resident.  Soon this Portland playlist will stop and I'll be at the airport where my roommates are picking me up. I think my favorite thing to do is go over and over memories, sort out their meaning and just stew in the pangs of nostalgia.  But then I remember how excited I’ve felt about being in California and how elated I am when I go to lecture and see the possibilies for my future.  I know the latter should seem like the better feeling, but no matter how good things seem in the present I think I’ll always want to listen to music that makes me think about places and people in my life, feeling sad in a good way, and dreaming up a past that is sort of like the one that happened.

I hope you all are crying.